


Crown of Love

by dancehalldays1993



Category: Bon Appétit Test Kitchen (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancehalldays1993/pseuds/dancehalldays1993
Summary: When she had opened her eyes again, he had pulled away. Gently and lovingly. Promising her silently that he would always care. He was halfway out the door before he turned to her one last time.“Ya know Claire, they say it fades if you let it.”
Relationships: Brad Leone & Claire Saffitz, Brad Leone/Claire Saffitz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Crown of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know why I did this. I'm sorry. I'm stress watching BA videos and going a little stir crazy and well, this is a result of that. This is 100% fiction. I do not condone sharing or talking about this with anyone. Please, for the love of god, don't tell anyone about this. 
> 
> PS. This was inspired by Crown of Love by the amazing Arcade Fire.

Claire Saffitz wasn’t a very likeable person, in her opinion. She wasn’t warm or spontaneous. She didn’t light up the room when she walked in. She was shy and a little annoying, sometimes teetering on the edge of bossy and controlling. She lived very comfortably within the confines of the boundaries she had created for herself so long ago as an anxiety ridden, overachieving child who was always so far ahead of herself. Always analyzing, always second guessing, always compensating. Even in her failure, she was measured. Never letting her guard down, never allowing more weakness and vulnerability to show than necessary. This is why meeting Brad Leone had changed everything she thought she knew about herself.

Brad, who was the exact opposite of Claire. Brad, who drew everyone into his happy bubble and made them feel good. Made _her_ feel good. Brad, who seemed to _actually_ like her. Wanted to be around her. Wanted to seek her our to show her his latest fermentation project. Wanted to stop by her station to help her at the end of a long day when everyone else had gone home and she was sludging through another tiring video shoot. Wanted to cut wire racks for her and sharpen her knives. Wanted to make her a hydrating drink spiked with cherry juice to get her through the day.

When she was first hired as a food editor at Bon Appetit, Brad was already working there. The test kitchen manager. The master of all trades. The person who seemed to keep both the kitchen and Claire going. The two of them had quickly fallen into an easy friendship. He would tease her for her anxiety-induced antics, and she would pretend to be annoyed with him. He would ask her about her latest Gourmet Makes project and she would seek his help for whatever she could think of.

_“Hiya, Claire. Whatcha got goin’ there” he would ask her, so earnestly, in his Northern Jersey accent that Claire had come to associate so closely with him, draping himself over her station counter. “A little dehydration action, eh? Nice!”_

_Heart pounding, she would force her voice into the most professional tone she could muster. Trying so hard to hide her excitement that he had come over to her. “Yeah, so I made some concentrated chicken stock that I’m going to dehydrate and then blitz in the NutriBullet to make the ramen soup.” She would explain, simultaneously talking to him and the camera, so no one would catch on that all she wanted to do was talk to him._

_“Ah, there ya go, Claire. That’s innovation right there! Wayta use that noodle.”_

_She would never want him to leave. “How long do you think I should leave it in there?” She would ask. Hoping he wouldn’t._

_“Alright well, what temp you got that thing at? One-thirty? That sounds about right. I’d like that bad boy go all night.”_

The viewers began to pick up on it. What _it_ was. Brad and Claire never discussed it. The comments, the compilation videos, the memes _._ She wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but Claire found herself disregarding all her boundaries. Leaning into it. Giving into this primal _urge_ to be around Brad. To talk to him. To make him laugh. Maybe she was imagining it, but she had started to feel a wink punctuate all of Brad’s interactions with her. As if he was silently acknowledging the _buzz_ surrounding their relationship. Giving a playful nod. Never delving. Never conceding.

Soon, the test kitchen grew. Soon, it wasn’t just her and Brad unsurely navigating through the world of new media. Promising each other that they wouldn’t read any comments. Cheering each other on. Appearing in each other’s videos. Claire liked all her other co-workers. The test kitchen was an eclectic bunch and she never thought she would find so much comfort and joy in a group of people. For the first time, she believed in her heart that she was liked and respected. She wondered how much of that was because of the way Brad had made her feel like she really did light up the room during those early years.

When Brad first told her Peggy was pregnant, Claire had been happy for him.

_“Yo, half sour,” Brad had yelled out at her during one of her shoots. She had turned to see Brad loping towards her, a lopsided grin on his face, goobalini securely in place. He had throwing something down on the counter in front of her. “eh check that out will ya?”_

_Claire had looked at the ultrasound, not fully understanding. Not fully processing._

_“I got summin’ bakin’ at home myself. How’s that for Gourmet Makes? Eh, Claire?”_

She had given him a hug. Told him to tell Peggy congrats. Told him how happy she was for him. She hadn’t let herself look at him as coworkers crowded around them. If she had, she might have detected something in his smile, something out of place, a tinge of remorse. She hadn’t been able to explain the tears that silently slipped down her cheeks as she walked away.

Over the next few months. Claire had done everything she could to redraw the boundaries. Settle back into logic and reality. Up until now, she had been pathetically and blissfully ignoring Peggy’s existence in Brad’s life. It had been so easy to do when it was just her and Brad in the kitchen. Making sourdough bread, soldering wire racks, drinking kombucha, joking around.

She had reminded herself that she had Harris. Sweet, lovely, _hers_. She wasn’t sure why that hadn’t been enough. Soon, she couldn’t ignore it anymore. The aching, throbbing, painful longing that had settled deep within her. So deep within her that she couldn’t touch it. Couldn’t soothe it. Couldn’t take the edge away.

When she handed in her resignation, Claire told Adam it was because she had too many other things going on. A cookbook. Moving in with Harris. She didn’t have time. She didn’t tell Adam that her heart was shattered. That she couldn’t put it back together around the guy who unknowingly wielded the hammer.

She had run into him on her last day as she was running around the kitchen gathering her things. All six foot four of him leaning against the wall next to the exit. Red flannel peeking out from his jacket. Winter cap on his head. She had gripped the box she had been holding tightly. Digging her fingers into the cardboard. Willing her stomach to still. Willing her breath to come back to her.

“Brad, I…”

His gaze had softened. As if the sound of her voice had warmed it. He had looked at the ground, shuffling his feet, clearing his throat. Struggling to find the words to say. To make it better. To make _her_ better. Like he had so often done.

She had held her breath as he suddenly dropped his head down to place his lips against her forehead. The softest of grazes. She could barely feel him. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. She hadn’t been sure how long they stood like that. It had felt like hours but was surely only seconds.

When she had opened her eyes again, he had pulled away. Gently and lovingly. Promising her silently that he would always care. He was halfway out the door before he turned to her one last time.

“Ya know Claire, they say it fades if you let it.”

And in that moment. Claire had found the clarity she needed. A hope to move on. A strength to let go.


End file.
